"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
10-31-2018, 10:03 PM (This post was last modified: 10-31-2018, 10:04 PM by Noah.)
that's all there is
She wanted to love Pangea. After all, she’d gone through so much to help raise it, and it brought her joy to bring new life to the dead Kingdom through the new power that Carnage had granted her. For a brief time, she’d adored the gray mage; he was tantalizingly interesting, and he’d given her such a lovely thing in return for the horror he’d subjected them to.
Oh, but it was brief.
After they’d done what he wanted, raised the Kingdom from the depths of the sea, then there was that vision – the one that told everyone everywhere that her papa was going to destroy the world, and that they should kill him. Now, she can’t stand even the thought of the gray mage or his forsaken Kingdom. But, neither can she stand to stay in Ischia, surrounded by strangers. She is grateful to Nihlus for his timely rescue, and thinks his little family is lovely, but she can’t intrude on their happiness with her overwhelming grief.
After all she did, and saw, it feels a paltry prize that she is immune from the disease herself. That didn’t help her save her father. Rhonen died knowing his death would spell terrible things for Pangea, but not knowing that once he died her Pangea-caused disease would suddenly cease to be something she couldn’t heal. He didn’t know she would survive. The young mare leaves Ischia in the dead of night, while her host family is sleeping, and wanders – aimlessly.
When the sun comes up, she is standing in a field, the tall grasses brushing soothingly along her belly and sides. She lifts her face to the last of the moon and constellations in the sky, and then watches as the wildflowers open slowly, their morning greeting to the sun in the exposure of their bright colors. She lets her new awareness of them stretch out from herself, encouraging them to bloom wilder, bigger, brighter; this brings her first real smile since watching them descend in a murderous horde on her father.
That settles it. This is home now.
noah
ooc: Brennen is stepping down as head of Ischia ASAP so that frees me for this. Noah makes a claim on Brilliant Pampas because everyone owes her for killing her dad. :|
@[jenger] -pony or any
take me, take me back to your bed. i love you so much that it hurts my head.
say, i don't mind you under my skin. oh, let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.
He does not sleep. He watches the horizon with feral eyes and waits for others to come take part in the sanctuary that Beqanna raised from the oceans. Somewhere, Adna is probably sleeping in a little bundle of legs, and he hopes her dreams don’t bring her terror as his often do. He had considered venturing out to Tephra to find her, but why drag her from somewhere safe to the Pampas? No, she deserved better than that. And so too did Leliana.
But he’s pulled from his thoughts when he sees someone venturing from the empty halls of Loess and into the new home. He squints his eyes and watches until he’s certain that he doesn’t recognize her. Guarding Loess had trained him to bare his teeth at the sight of an intruder but he quickly curls his lips back over the pointed rows of fangs. No, times have changed. Everyone deserves shelter from the storm. He reminds himself of this and takes in a deep breath, releasing it slowly until he’s sure he’s calm again.
Then he moves forward to meet her halfway. She’s got sad eyes and her coat is a bit red like his love. For a fleeting moment, he’s tempted to let his guard down, but his duty to Wolfbane and the Loessians comes first.
“My name is Vulgaris, champion of Loess. This region is claimed for my home, by order of our Lord Wolfbane,” he explains, though his tone lacks any bite or aggression. There is only a stoic calm. “We’re happy to welcome anyone seeking refuge from the plague, though. What’s your name?”
He wishes he had learned the kind of welcoming warmth that the more politically inclined members employed. Still, it’s not difficult to offer a faint smile when he finishes speaking, though he’s careful not to let the expression be corrupted by the cruel shape of his teeth.
10-31-2018, 11:41 PM (This post was last modified: 10-31-2018, 11:42 PM by Wolfbane.)
My dreams have all come true
To the southeast a promise rises. It’s triangular and lush, stemmed through with newborn rivers and streams, billowing double fold with layers and layers of color-spotted grass. Wolfbane flies above it and marvels at the change along with the sheer beauty, but something in him can’t refute the hollow loss of his homeland as it disappears into the distance behind himself and Lepis.
Duty demands attention though, so he only looks back to assure that his Cleric (his whole world) is following at his side or close nearby. As for his mercenaries, there’s very little to worry about. Their tenacity had been forged in wrought iron long before they agreed to band together under one creed. An apocalyptic world change would only excite them if he was being honest with himself.
Unsurprisingly these thoughts seem to direct his flight, and a vision of his Champion - the Viper Vulgaris - along with the unmistakable hue of his newly anointed Bard, Electra, takes shape at the very edge of his outcast vision. They’re little more than distinguishable blurs, who (like himself) find their attention suddenly turned towards a harrowing call. Their new haven seems as devourable as the rest of Beqanna’s land, claimed in the time it takes he and his mate to escape.
Vulgaris heads off, Bane eyes Lepis, offers her the options: “Rest or follow, whatever you feel capable of.” And wearily smiles in reassurance before wheeling away to follow his dappled gray, scaled comrade. For the final few hundred feet or so the pegasus stallion touches down, transitioning from flight to flat out canter with practiced ease and the flick of an all-white tail. Timeliness means he only fails to hear Vulgaris introduce himself, the sound of his own muffled trot and wide-nostril panting blowing along to the sounds of a throaty voice declaring this territory claimed in his name: Wolfbane, Lord of Loess.
“Let me interrupt, seeing as I’m the topic of conversation.” The strange-looking male sighs, trying to catch his breath. He’s still thankful, nodding deeply in recognition to the other brute who, after today, would be considered a close friend. Momentarily Bane glances in search of Lepis, leaves room beside himself, and halts amid the grass that shivers underneath his golden stomach before addressing the roan mare. “You understand why we're here, that more will come.” The once self-styled Pirate delivers, softening his usually keen stare on account of their entire world going to hell. “As it stands I’m not entirely opposed to your claim. Of course I’d like to hear why …” He shrugs, moving the stripes along his shoulders.
She had as much of a right to this place as they did.
An apology reflects in his eyes as Bane turns away, his deep voice rumbling out to spread through the wildflowers that seemed so impossibly bright and full, “Sylva declared war upon us right before the change. We all need to think carefully, and quickly, about our next steps.”
11-01-2018, 08:31 PM (This post was last modified: 11-01-2018, 08:33 PM by Noah.)
that's all there is
She is no trained warrior, alert to every movement around her, but neither is she oblivious to the movements of others; how could she be, when she and her father have been essentially homeless for so long? In truth, Rhonen had done most of the watching, but as she grew up, he’d begun to delegate some of these tasks to Noah, preparing her for life without him, though both had assumed that time would be long distant. Now though the sound of an approach brings her up, away from the explosion of growing flowers, and she focuses her still desolate gaze on Vulagris.
The roan’s body tenses, her eyes widening marginally, but she firms her stance, intending to stand strong no matter what. When he begins to speak, however, she relaxes fractionally; while she doesn’t necessarily agree with everything the stranger says, his voice is in no way threatening, and he offers a slight smile at the end. She gives him only a portion of her attention, though, because it’s hard to miss gold and blue pegasus descending from the sky and approaching quickly.
Two-on-one is slightly less comforting, and she takes a slight step away from the pair even as she lifts her chin and shores up her confidence, forcing her voice to stay quiet but firm and steady when she responds. “My name is Noah,” she says first, because it’s easy. She glances at the gray, reminding herself of his name (‘Vulgaris’) and then back to the brighter stallion (‘Wolfbane’). “I do understand. You’ve come here because this land is safe from the plague, while your Loess is not. But this won’t last forever, and in the end you will get to go home.”
Noah imagines Loess, like all Kingdoms, as some grand place. In contrast, this place is small but vibrant; a hill to Loess’ mountain. “I don’t have another home to go to, and I find myself very much already in love with this place for itself.” The girl fidgets, refolds her wings, smiling dreamily for a moment as she remembers the sun rising over the meadow. At her feet, several plants sprout new buds that quickly become bright flowers. She blinks away the memory and forces herself to focus – she’s still quite tired from fighting the symptoms of whatever illness has been affecting those who went on Carnage’s first quest. The symptoms are better – no more delusions, and she rarely coughs anymore – but her body is taking time to recover completely. It doesn’t respond to her own power, though she knows from a random experiment on her way from Pangea to here that that’s not the case for victims of this new disease.
“I also have no objection to sharing this safe place with those in need until everyone can go home. But when you do go home, I’d like to keep this place for myself, and for those who may have come to love it while we shelter here. As a herd, perhaps.” She doesn’t need or want to be a Queen, and she doesn’t feel like this place wants to be a Kingdom. “In return, I can offer some protection from the disease, for your people. I can heal it, in fact.” Here she hesitates, her confidence faltering. Her dark fall to the ground and then lift carefully to meet Wolfbane’s, tentative and dark. “I could…maybe I could help you with your war, as well. I might be able to make your enemies more sick. But that would be terrible, and I’d rather not unless something terrible would happen, otherwise.”
Keeping level with the golden stallion is a skill I have long since mastered. My wings tilt and bank in response to his without conscious thought on my part. I focus on flight anyway, finding it far preferable to sorting out whatever this disaster might be.
Safety first.
When it is in sight I break off from Wolfbane with a sharp nod, leaving him to descend toward the gathering Loessians and instead heading higher.
The world that spreads beneath my hooves is strange, but some part of it are still recognizable. Sylva spreads to the north, but this spit of land is bordered mostly by the sea. A narrow opening in the hills must be how those Loessians without wings had made it here. So little shared borderland with my homeland, and so much more with Sylva.
Despite the plague, I find myself searching for an advantage. It seems Wolfbane has rubbed off on me after all.
When my survey of this new place is complete, I find the gold and blue mark that is my king, and land beside him. I settle my wings neatly to my barely rounded sides and give a nod of recognition and a smile to Vulgaris before moving to stand beside Wolfbane.
I slide into the conversation without other introduction, listening to the unfamiliar roan girl speak of the plague and her ability to heal it. "But perhaps in exchange for you healing them, Sylva will leave this haven for us and stay in their forest. Plague seems fitting for them, after all, but I don't doubt we could defeat them if they insist on outright war."
There are few who know this better than I, their queen until recently. I wonder, briefly, if Arthas has told them that I no longer rule. He had never been fond of kingdom meetings, after all. That had been my forte. This thought is a reminder of my position, and I glance back at the winged girl.
"I'm Lepis," I tell her with a smile, all too familiar with the precarious position she holds.
take me, take me back to your bed. i love you so much that it hurts my head.
say, i don't mind you under my skin. oh, let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.
He watches Wolfbane as he explains the current tension between the two kingdoms to the would-be ruler of the new land. Following his cue, Vulgaris relaxes a bit regarding her claim to the region. He’s come a long way since he first returned to Beqanna, although it might not seem like it. Before Loess groomed some of the ferocity from him, he might have simply sought her throat with his teeth. But now he’s making introductions and asking questions before he simply tries to slaughter any minor inconvenience. And she seems rather nice when she introduces herself, so he’s glad he’s learned at least some semblance of diplomacy by now.
When she explains to the growing group that she has no home to return to, he finds a slight frown developing across his expression. He’d taken Loess for granted, he realizes now. She even offers to heal their sick in exchange for submission to her claim. That kind of kindness reminds him of his Leliana and it softens his edges a little more.
He turns his head to watch as Lepis joins them now. He nods along as she suggests trying to convince Sylva to leave once they’ve been healed. It would be nice to only have like-minded individuals here until the plague subsides, he supposes.
“If you’re willing to heal our sick, then I would be glad to let you have this region,” he says as he casts a glance to Wolfbane, searching for agreement in his gaze. “I’m going to go find Leliana and any others that need shelter. Should I look for anyone in particular while I’m gone?”
Vulgaris knows the risks of leaving their sanctuary but he fears for others who have no region to return home to. Namely, he thinks of his lover, whom he exiled shortly before the plague swept through the land. He also thinks his sisters and children as his stomach curls itself into worried knots.
Noah makes a claim on Brilliant Pampas because everyone owes her for killing her dad. :|
![[Image: Wolfbane2.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/601918740845559818/696502662816071770/Wolfbane2.png)
![[Image: 3bCHvj.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/3bCHvj.png)
